Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light
by catsmeow79
Summary: One-shot taking place after Do Not Go Gentle S3E20 . After Ric's death Damon is strongly leaning toward turning off his humanity, what could possibly stop him?


_Author's Note_: _After the awesomeness that was Heart of Darkness, Do Not Go Gentle was **brutally** sad, I can not even comprehend. I feel like with only two episodes left in the season, there isn't enough time for everything that still needs to happen. So, this is just my little add-on scene attempting to fill-in the blanks that the show probably won't have time to cover. It's Damon/Elena of course, but not **too** rosy since I'm mostly sticking with show-cannon_. No action, just introspection.

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The first of the sun's rays slowly started to creep across the horizon, their light gradually beginning to illuminate the darkness outside her bedroom window as Elena sat legs curled beneath her, staring out across her front yard, lost in thought. She had been sitting on the windowseat that way for hours, a fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders in a vain attempt to shield herself from the non-existent April cold. Unfortunately for her, the cold Elena felt right now wasn't coming from the outside, it was coming from deep inside of her.

After last night's tragic events, Elena's heart was filled with despair. The Ric she knew, the Ric she loved, was gone forever. In his place was a monster bent on killing others that she loved, maybe even killing **_her_**. Elena bit back another sob as it threatened to burst from her chest, remembering evilRic's cold dead eyes staring back at her as she'd pleaded with him not to drink Ester's potion.

Elena had been crying quietly all night in her bedroom, ever since Damon had returned from the tomb with a freaked-out Bonnie. Ester had somehow managed to possess Bonnie's body, forced her to feed Alaric her blood and turn him into the weapon she wanted him to be. Now, Bonnie was battered and bruised and Alaric was nowhere to be found.

After Elena had filled Stefan, Damon and Bonnie in on every single thing that Ester had said before and during the ritual, Stefan and Bonnie had gone to seek counsel at the dead-witch-house and Damon had stayed here to protect her in case evilAlaric came to the Gilbert house looking for trouble.

Noiseless tears streamed down her face and Elena put her fist to her mouth, choking back another sob as it welled within her. She wouldn't cry anymore, not with Damon just downstairs listening to every sound she made. Elena knew that Damon was hurting, even if he would never admit it out loud. She would be strong, she wouldn't cause him any more pain by adding hers to his own.

The sun had risen above the horizon now, splashing it's light across the trees outside her bedroom window but all Elena could feel was the darkness. Sighing, she stood reluctantly, discarding the fleece throw and walking into the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. Grabbing the cardigan that was draped haphazardly across the back of her desk chair, she slipped it on as she walked down the hall toward the stairs. The soft wool did nothing to warm the cold that had taken up residence inside of her heart - - everyone she'd ever dared to love had died and it hurt **so** badly that she could hardly breathe.

Elena's bare feet padded noiselessly down the stairs, careful not to wake Jeremy. If he was actually getting some sleep right now, she refused to be the one who disturbed him. Entering the kitchen, Elena found Damon sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with his back to her, an empty bottle of bourbon beside him on the table. He didn't turn as she entered, but Elena knew he was aware of her presence, he could hear the beat of her heart from a thousand yards away. He'd known she was coming, if Damon wanted to talk to her, he would. Elena walked over to the kitchen cabinet and pulled down the coffee canister, measuring out several heaping tablespoons and placing them into the filter before setting it inside the machine and turning it on.

As the coffee brewed, Elena walked over toward the sink, finding Jeremy's dirty dishes laying discarded on the counter. On auto-pilot she picked them up, running them under the hot water and brushing the sponge across them half-heartedly before loading them into the dishwasher.

Damon watched Elena, her back to him now as she labored at the sink. She had spent the better part of the night crying for Alaric, even if he hadn't heard her, he would have known by the swelling evident around her eyes this morning. Elena had tried to be quiet about it on his account, he knew that, but Damon could still hear every breath she took, even upstairs.

He _wanted_ to be angry at her right now, angry because she'd asked Stefan to the dance, angry because she'd kissed him in Colorado and let him think just for a moment that she felt it too, but most of all angry because Elena had been right about him - - he _did_ sabotage things.

The people Damon actually cared about suffered just as much at his hands as those he didn't. What was happening right now with Ric, it was _**his**_ fault. Elena hadn't said it outright, maybe she didn't even realize it, but he knew the truth - - every time Alaric had died, Ester had been there waiting in the darkness, twisting all that was good inside him toward her own vengeful purposes. Damon had made it easier for her to reach Ric - he had killed him twice, and the sad fact was that he hadn't _needed_ to either time. He had allowed Ester do this to Ric, it was Rose all over again - - Damon had picked an unnecessary fight with Jules, and Rose had died because of it . . . . because of him. It was the inescapable truth that hurt the most - - Elena was _right_ to run from him.

Elena loaded the last plate into the dishwasher, using her foot to kick it closed as she dried her hands on one of her mother's embroidered tea towels. When she turned around, she caught Damon watching her with the most indescribable look on his face. Just for a moment, it was love and pain and anger and guilt and he was so heart-breakingly human in that second that Elena wanted to cry all over again.

And then it was gone, Damon blinked and the raging seas beneath his cerulean blue eyes were replaced by his practiced facade of indifference, he didn't want to talk about it. This time, Elena vowed that she wouldn't make him.

"_The next time you compel Jeremy, make him better at baseball AND washing his own dishes_" she teased, smiling softly in his direction as she tried to lighten the mood.

Damon smiled back, accepting Elena's attempt at levity for what it was - she was doing it for him, pretending everything was okay for him. Because she understood that he didn't want to feel right now, he wanted to be numb, and if she pushed him, it would all come spilling out of him in violent, reckless waves like it always did. What Elena had said in Kansas was the truth - he _did_ lash out when things got rough, he didn't know how not to.

The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee had begun to fill the kitchen and Elena walked over to the counter, taking two mugs off their stand and filling both with the steaming liquid. She set her own mug on the island next to the sugar bowl and walked over to the table, setting Damon's mug down in front of him. Elena grimaced knowingly as she glanced at the empty bottle of bourbon with concern. Caroline had told her once that alcohol helped to even out the jitters that coursed through her vampire body, to tone down the dangerous impulses.

Elena had always suspected that Damon used the bourbon to drown the feelings he didn't want to feel, but for him it also lessened his control over those more dangerous impulses, and that worried her. Damon made no motion to move as Elena reached across him, her arm brushing his as she grabbed the empty bottle of bourbon and walked back to the sink to rinse it out before placing it carefully into the recycling bin.

Elena stood at the island, pouring spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her own coffee, stirring absent-mindedly as she watched Damon - he hadn't moved, he was just sitting there, staring at the mug in front of him, his eyes glazed over like he was some place far away. Elena was worried about him, afraid he'd do the most destructive he could imagine in his grief.

Elena took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. Damon had all but promised her in Kansas that he wouldn't lash out next time there was a bump in the road. Whatever his faults, Damon had never broken a promise to her. This time she wouldn't push him she decided, she would trust Damon to deal with his grief however he chose to.

Leaning beneath the counter, Elena opened the cabinet door and pulled out another bottle of bourbon. Walking over to stand beside Damon again, she placed the bottle gently on the table in front of him next to the coffee mug, the choice was his. The bottle had been Ric's of course, and that thought made her eyes water involuntarily with fresh tears.

"_I'm sorry_" she whispered, her fingers lingering on the neck of the bottle for a moment, like she was saying goodbye "_I know Jeremy and I aren't the only ones who lost him_"

Damon could actually feel his heart clench in his chest at her words, even though it hadn't technically beat in more than a century. How did she always manage to do that? How did she make him feel when he was so determined not to?

The very first time he'd ever been inside her home, back when he'd only wanted to be close to her in order to screw with Stefan, she'd completely disarmed him with her empathy - - made him feel something that he hadn't felt in too many years to remember. Elena didn't even know him then and she didn't know Katherine, she only knew that he'd lost her and she was sorry that loss had hurt him. Elena didn't realize then that he _deserved_ to be hurt, that he'd done a thousand unforgivable things, that he didn't deserve her sympathy, she'd simply given it to him without reservation. Maybe it had taken Damon numerous months to realize it, but _**that**_ moment between them in her kitchen had changed his entire existence forever.

Alaric was one of the only true friends Damon had ever had in his life, and now he was gone. When it came down to it, Damon would probably be the one to drive the stake through Ric's heart, and if he was honest with himself - - it was going to kill him to do it.

There was an easy way around that anguish of course, all he had to do was flip the switch and turn off his humanity. He'd been sitting in the dark contemplating doing just that all night long, it would certainly make what was coming next easier to bear. But then, the reason it was even a question at all was standing only a hair's breadth away from him right now, her doe eyes looking down at him with concern. Damon wondered if she had any idea how close to the raggedy edge he truly was.

Elena allowed her hand to drop from the bottle, resting for a moment on the table before she continued. "_I'm sorry that you always have to be the one to make the tough decisions_" she murmured "_It isn't fair_"

Damon swallowed hard at the simple truth in her words, at the empathy and the awareness contained within them. Elena knew, she understood. A flood of emotions rushed toward the surface, blindly trampling the walls he'd built so carefully as they crashed to the floor around him. He needed her so badly right now, he needed her to remind him why feeling the good made it worth having to feel the bad also. Before he knew what was happening, Damon had reached his hand out and grabbed Elena's.

As she turned to walk away, Elena was surprised to find Damon's hand seeking hers. And when she looked down at his face, she saw something she'd only seen brief traces of in the past - true vulnerability. Wordlessly, she closed the space between them. Moving to stand between his legs where he sat, Elena wrapped both her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. Not only didn't Damon fight her, this time he wrapped his arms around her waist, laying his head against her chest, letting her hug him.

Elena held on tight as Damon let her see inside a place he'd never shown her before, maybe he'd never shown anyone. When he'd lost Katherine, when he'd lost Rose, he refused to admit to Elena that he was in pain. She had hugged him then and he'd merely remained frozen in place, stiff as a board, arms at his side. This time was different, this time he was accepting what she offered, clinging to her like a life perserver on stormy seas.

"_We will get through this_" she promised, resting her chin on the top of his head as she moved her hands in soothing circular motions across his back "_We will survive this_, _we **always** do_"

Damon closed his eyes, listening to the steady beat of Elena's heart against his ear as he allowed her to comfort him. He didn't know why he'd always fought her before, it felt so good to have her arms around him, to feel her warmth seeping into all of the cold dead places inside of him. No, that was a lie, he _did_ know why he'd fought it - - it was because if he let himself feel too much, he might not ever be able to stop again and that pain would be unbearable when she left him.

Elena's heart ached for the lost little boy Damon seemed to be right now, and for the flawed man that he truly was. More of her heart was filled with him than she had admitted to even herself, until this moment. Now, as she held him in her arms, Elena realized that she **did** know her feelings - - it was her actions of which she was unsure.

Something had changed between her and Damon while Stefan was away. At the time she'd thought her heart was confused, she thought her "feelings" for Damon were manifestations of missing Stefan. Both she and Damon loved Stefan, she felt closer to him when she was with Damon. Now she realized that she had been very wrong - this was something else entirely, and her feelings for Damon hadn't disappeared when Stefan had returned, they'd only continued to intensify.

Elena was truly conflicted, her feelings for Stefan were still in her heart and now they were joined by those she had for Damon as well. She honestly didn't know how she could reconcile those warring parts of her soul. But suddenly, none of that seemed to matter because it was possible that there wouldn't _be_ a tomorrow for any of them.

Long after the coffee had become cold and undrinkable, Damon stayed in the comfort of Elena's embrace, allowing her goodness to soothe the torrents that raged inside him. They stayed like that for many minutes; his arms wrapped around her waist, her chin resting on his head. Eventually she ran her hands up his back and across his shoulders, resting her arms around his head, stroking his hair gently as she held him close.

Finally, the sound of Jeremy's footsteps moving around upstairs forced them back to reality. Reluctantly, Damon release his hold on Elena's waist, shifting backward in his chair as he pulled away. Elena only let him get a short distance before she stopped him, keeping her hands on the base of his neck.

"_There's something I want you to know_" she started, her hands stroking his face as she met Damon's eyes "_What I said at Mary's - - it wasn't true_" she began, her voice soft but certain.

"_Elena don't_ . . ." he protested weakly, afraid the moment would shatter.

Elena ignored him "_I DO know what I feel for you_" she explained, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she spoke.

Damon found that he was holding his breath as his eyes shifted around the room, trying to avoid the intensity of her gaze.

"_I don't know what to do about it, but I__** know** what I feel_" she confessed, the pads of her thumbs making small circles against the skin of his neck as she kept Damon from turning away from her, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"_I love you_" she murmured, her fingers playing with the short hair at the base of his neck as they rested on his shoulders.

Damon didn't say anything in response, he merely look into her unwavering eyes, reading the sincerity located within them. Elena meant what she was saying - she loved him, he could see it, and more importantly he could _feel_ it.

_"I just wanted you to know that" _she explained, fear fliting briefly across her face as she imagined the possibilities "_In case this thing with Alaric goes badly for either of us_"

"_I won't let anything happen to you_" Damon promised, his hand coming up to rest on her forearm.

"_I know_" she whispered, her fingertip stroking his cheek gently. She wasn't really afraid for herself at all, she was scared for all of her friends who would die if Alaric killed the wrong Original.

Upstairs, Jeremy's bedroom door creaked opened and the sound of his boots echoed down the hallway. Elena stepped backward slowly, her hand lingering in Damon's for a moment before he finally released her. Elena took his coffee mug from the table, walking back over to the sink and dumping it's contents down the drain before pouring him a fresh cup. She placed it gently on the table beside him, the silence between them filled with emotion.

"_Thank you_" Damon whispered, his eyes burning into hers with unspoken meaning.

"_You're welcome_" she answered, meeting his gaze.

**The End**

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Author's Note: _What did you guys think? I know it wasn't a "Damon and Elena live happily ever after" happy-ending, but I think it was true to where they both are emotionally on the show right now. Please review_ :-)


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